Electric Blue
by Shiro-san69
Summary: After the Winter War, Ichigo has returned home and has lost his powers. Grimmjow awakes in Hueco Mundo, apparently not as dead as he should be. What will happen when Ichigo discovers that Grimmjow is alive? Grimm/Ichi Pairing. Yaoi, maybe future lemon.
1. Energy

Hello All! :) I haven't written fanfiction in a very very long time, but I have become extremely attached to this pairing. I hope you like it and please review if you want me to post more :)

**Warnings**: Will be eventually Yaoi Grimm/Ichi, and rated M to be on the safe side later on, and for the two boys' dirty mouths. :P

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing but the shoes on my feet. If I owned Bleach, I wouldn't be posting fanfiction .

**Other**: I'm sorry if grammar, spelling or anything is wrong! I just wrote this tonight, and I wanted to post it at soon as I could. So I only did minor editing.

Grimmjow could feel sand tickling his face; a warm wind playing with his hair. He opened one swollen eye, instant pain shooting through his skull as the dim light of Hueco Mundo entered his pupil. It felt like his head was on fire.

_Wait...why am I here?_

Slowly memories came flooding back. The Shinigami's Zanpakuto slamming into his chest, the sensation of blood gushing from his veins, coating Zangetsu in a crimson film. Slowly being lowered to the ground by the hand of his enemy...and then being finished by the weapon of his ally.

He snorted inwardly at this. Nnoitra was not his ally. Nobody was his ally. Just as nobody was his Lord, Master, or King.

But the thoughts brought him back to the same point.

He should have been dead.

He slowly eased his other eye open, and the monochromatic hollow world came into focus around him. Nearby a corpse of a tree scratched its length into the sky, backlit by the eclipsed moon. Its scraggly, feeble arms were raised in the air almost as a mock crucifix. _Fitting, _Grimmjow noted, as he pulled himself slowly and timidly to his elbows. It was as far as he got before collapsing back into the sand with a growl of pain. He noticed, though, that was was no longer bleeding. His wounds had clotted, and the effects of faster regeneration were starting to slowly stitch his wounds back together. Although his skin was almost mended, his internal injuries were far from healed. The tissue of his muscles were torn in what seemed almost every part of his body.

_Weakling! Get the fuck up! _

He hissed this in his head. He was determined not to be limited by his constricting body. With one shaky lurch, he brought himself to his knees. The pain felt as though it would tear him in two, but he bit his tongue and growled menacingly as he tried to keep his mind off of the pain by glancing around him.

He was in the middle of the desert, so very far that he couldn't even see Las Noches.

"If I can't even see Las Noches...then where the HELL am I?"

He half yelled these words with a feral growl as he mustered the strength to stand to his feet. Wobbly as he was, he ignored it. Beings who strove for power and recognition did NOT wobble. Slowly he began to walk forward, feet as heavy as cement blocks, sweat already beading on his pounding and feverish forehead. He unstrapped Pantera from his waist, and began using her as a crutch.

His boot caught itself in a small hole, and he stumbled. As he did, he felt one of his wounds open up again, hot blood oozing out and dripping down his chest. He hissed, but pressed forward. Unsure of where was was pressing forward to, he followed the pale moon in the sky, and hoped it would lead him to someplace safer and more comfortable to recover.

#-#-#-#-#-#-#-#

Kurosaki Ichigo looked up suddenly. He had been sleeping peacefully in his desk chair, face stuck to his homework from the drool that had escaped his mouth. Now, with a jolt, he stood up out of his chair as though the seat had set aflame.

"This reiatsu. But...where?"

Ichigo had lost most of his powers, those that let him draw his Zanpakuto and turn himself into a Shinigami. But he had never lost his spiritual senses. He couldn't quite decipher if it was human, or hollow. The two seemed to blend, fogging his mind as he tried to translate the ribbons of spiritual energy. Rushing over to his window, he stared out at the moonlit sky. A chill trickled down his spine, as familiar tendrils of spirit power found their way to the back of his neck.

"Who are you? You seem so...familiar. And powerful."

A flash of blue entered the back of his mind, only for a second. It jumped his heart, and he sat down on the edge of his bed, panting. Electric blue, a wild, feral presence. He brushed a bead of sweat from his brow with a fist and let himself fall onto his bed. The spiritual energy was wavering, as though struggling to stay alive.

"If you are a hollow, someone must have gotten to you first..." he muttered. The thought made him sad, and he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because he wished he could have gotten to it first. Or maybe because he was so tired of fighting that the thought of something dying that was clearly not just a hollow, but a powerful, intelligent being, had made him disappointed and anxious. The more he dwelled on it, the more he wished he could jump out of his physical body and rush to its aid. But as quickly as the thought entered, the reiatsu fizzled from existence.

Ichigo caught in a sharp breath of air. Even if he had all of his powers, it would've been too late. In the back of his mind he wondered if it was Ishida. He showed no mercy to hollows, regardless if they were different from others or not.

The room had grown stuffy, so he decided to take a walk. Slipping his feet into his shoes, he exited his house and walked down the deserted and quiet street of his childhood. The moon made it so that the landscape eerily reminded him of the black, white and gray world of Hueco Mundo. The night seemed stiller than it should have been, but he tried to keep it out of his mind. He was still on edge after the countless months of training, fights, stress and struggles.

A surge of reiatsu began to surge out of a nearby dark alleyway. The same blue, intense energy as he had felt in his own room. Drawn to it, mostly on instinct of his former Shinigami self, Ichigo ran towards its source, feet spurred on by adrenaline, running towards the feeling like a moth drawn to flame. And then he stopped. His shoes slipped on something wet covering the ground in a pool. A growl rose from behind a large garbage dumpster, a hiss echoed off of the walls.

Heart beating fast, Ichigo crept around the dumpster, swearing at the sky for not having Zangetsu by his side anymore.

As Ichigo's eyes became adjusted to the darkness, he could see blotches of pure white, mixed in with bright, electric blue. Two narrowed, feral eyes of the same blue as the fur-like hair glared up at him with a pained, hateful, and helpless expression.

"Grimm-...Grimmjow!"


	2. Compassion

**Thank you all for the reviews! I'm sorry the chapters are so short, I suppose I need to make them longer!**

**Also, I re-read this more than once to try and catch all of my troublesome grammatical errors. **

**For those of you who are wondering, I am staying true to each character's individual personality. I'm not going to mushy things up, Grimmjow swears because he's a bad boy, Ichigo tends to conflict between being too stubborn and making rash decisions. Nothing about that is going to change. And yes, my goal for now is to also keep Grimmjow a Hollow. Again, trying to stay true to the humble beginnings of these characters.**

**Anywho, let's get on to chapter 2 :)**

"Kuro...Kurosaki!" Grimmjow growled, suppressing a cough that came from deep in his chest. Ichigo dared not to move. He was unsure if he should help him. How many times had Grimmjow tried to kill him? He had hurt his friends, used Orihime, almost killed Rukia. It seemed that the most logical and vengeful thing he could do was to leave him to die. He was almost sure that if it was him lying on the ground in a pool of blood, that Grimmjow would show no mercy, no compassion and no sympathy. Ichigo was almost certain that a Hollow, let alone an Arrancar or Espada had the ability to feel guilty or have a conscience about anything.

An Arrancar's main purpose of existing was to eliminate the enemy. Ichigo had been and was that, to this very moment. As long as he continued to mingle with the affairs of Shinigami he would never be seen as anything but. However, in the back of his mind crept in the same feeling as he had had the day he almost killed Grimmjow. He refused to hurt something that could not fight back. He was still uncertain if it had been compassion or just the guilt of finishing off something that could not return a blow. But now, staring down at the crippled and mangled body of Grimmjow at his feet, he could not deny that he would not be able to walk away from him. Hollow or not, Grimmjow at least resembled a human, and certainly bled like one.

He crouched down to look at Grimmjow more closely. The Espada recoiled against the brick walls of the alleyway, his breath coming out in almost a hiss. "Get the fuck away from me!" he croaked, baring his teeth. His canines glistened for an instance in the moonlight, showing traces of what he really was; a feline-like Hollow, the ultimate predator. _Or had been,_ Ichigo thought calmly. He didn't move away from Grimmjow. It was clear that he couldn't move even if he had wanted to, let alone kill Ichigo.

Ichigo's eyes narrowed as he studied his wounds. His bare chest was littered with what seemed to be bite marks, some small and already scabbed over, and others were the size of his fist, the flesh apparently bitten out of him. Claw marks littered the edge of his Hollow hole, as if something had reached through it to grab him more efficiently. Blood streamed from these gaping bites, and more blood streamed from a large laceration hidden in his mess of sweaty and blood stained blue hair.

Grimmjow continued to softly growl at Ichigo, panting and wheezing. "If you're gonna fucking finish me off, do it! Draw Zangetsu and kill me, Kurosaki!" He gasped as his stomach turned as blood mixed with his bile. Something inside of him was broken, something that apparently was important to have to stay alive. He smirked to himself inside his head. _Since when did I start acting like a weak human? _He mused, and with this unsettling thought he tried to get to his feet, his boots slipping on his own pool of blood.

"Grimmjow, no! You can't stand up, you'll only make it worse!"

"Fuck off, Kuro-...saki!" His hand flew from his side and backhanded Ichigo in the jaw. For a moment Ichigo saw a flash of light, semi-impressed that Grimmjow still had the strength to produce enough power to hit him at all. He could feel the bruise forming already as his jaw began to ache with a hot sensation. He narrowed his eyes at Grimmjow as he took a step back. This was going to be complicated.

"I'm more than fine, see, Kurosaki?" Grimmjow mustered a small, pathetic laugh as he showed Ichigo that he could stand without support of the wall. But as he did so, his face suddenly grew pale. He could feel the blood drain from his face. A chill ran up his spine and the world began to spin. Trying to fight it as long as he could, he dropped to one knee and then slowly fell into himself in a heap on the cold tar.

Ichigo grunted, folding his arms. "Baka, I told him he couldn't handle it." With a sigh, he hesitantly touched Grimmjow's shoulder to make sure that he wasn't going to lash out and hit him again. It was clear this time that he was out cold, and in the back of Ichigo's mind he knew that time was running out. He could feel the reiatsu from the Espada slowly weaken like a dying fire. His body was growing cold. "How am I going to move you? You have so many injuries..."

"Kurosaki-kun! I felt the reiatsu so close to you, I..." Orhime Inoue appeared as a silhouette in the alleyway, hurrying towards Ichigo as fast as she could. She stopped short when she saw Grimmjow's still form on the ground and drew in a long gasp. Fear entered her eyes as she was suddenly transported to the prison of Hueco Mundo and the cruel way that the Espada had treated her. His eyes had been so cold, so void of emotion or caring. He had only needed her to heal Ichigo so that he could kill him. He was soulless, heartless, and one of the few people that Orihime _almost _hated.

"That's...-"

"Grimmjow, yes." Ichigo finished, in an almost hurried way. He turned to Orihime with a stern expression. "We need to bring him to my father's clinic."

"But Ichigo! He's...he's our...he's an Espada!" Orihime protested, soft eyes so suddenly opposed and determined to disagree with Ichigo's request. Had he gone mad? Willingly wanting to help someone who despised everything and everyone except the thrill to hunt out opponents and kill them? He must have lost his common sense when he lost his powers, Orihime reasoned.

"I'm not going to leave him here, Inoue! If you would've found him, would you of?"

Orihime was silent. She knew that he had hit her weakspot; her compassionate heart. It was doubtful that Orihime would leave a wounded mouse in an alleyway without healing it with her powers.

She sighed, glancing briefly down at Grimmjow's still form. "Alright," she relented, "I'll help him. But Kurosaki-kun, you can't be sure what he will do when he's healed."

"I'll deal with that when we come to it," Ichigo stated. He bent down to lace his arms under Grimmjow's as Orihime lifted his legs.

"But Ichigo," Orihime grunted as they slowly carried Grimmjow's limp body from the alleyway, "How will you keep him from hurting us? Now that..."

Ichigo felt as though something had stabbed him deep inside. Orihime was right. He was useless now. Nothing but a mere human, as he was sure Grimmjow would say. He struggled under Grimmjow's weight as they maneuvered him into his father's treatment clinic. It was small, but had a hospital bed pushed into the corner and various hospital items that were needed for small emergencies.

"I need you to heal him, Inoue. You will fix more than what I can with a few stitches."

Orihime looked up with a gasp as she finished easing Grimmjow's body onto the hospital bed.

"Ichigo!"

"Orihime!" Ichigo retorted, his voice climbing to a higher volume than Orihime had ever heard directed towards her. She almost winced at the sound.

"He's helpless. I'm not going to just sit here and watch him die, and like hell you will too! So quit picking now to be stubborn and use your power!"

Orihime stared at him for a moment, both terrified of his harsh words and at the fact that she would be healing someone that she despised. She closed her eyes, facing Grimmjow, and extended her hand.

"Soten Kisshun, I reject!"

A softly orange glowing sphere formed over Grimmjow's body, slowly but skillfully reversing the wounds that had debilitated his body. It even erased the blood stains and tears in his clothes as though invisible hands were sewing the threads back together. Orihime's face was stern as she concentrated on her work, keeping her mind away from who in fact she was healing.


	3. Vengence

**I was on a roll writing tonight, so here's the third chapter! Enjoy ^_^**

Grimmjow began to stir. His eyes slowly creeped open, blinking several times to clear the burning sensation within them. The ceiling was an oddly pulsating light of orange. He felt like he was laying in the sun, his skin tingling and a warm breeze hitting his face, surrounded by what felt like something comforting, or what he would think to be comforting as nothing in his life had ever been that way.

He turned his head gingerly to the left. Through the blurred world of the barrier he seemed to be in, he saw a young man sitting in a chair, chin resting on his fist, his head nodding as it seemed he kept falling asleep. The second thing he noticed about the human was that his hair was even more orange than Grimmjow's hazy prison. And then his slow mind began to construct what was happening.

"Kuro...saki?" Grimmjow groaned. His chest felt very tight and his mouth was dry. A weight pressed on his body, holding him down against the soft bed. A bed? Why was he in a bed? He looked ahead of him and noticed another orange haired human, although the colors were not as vibrant as the first. It was obviously a female, as even Grimmjow couldn't overlook how tightly her shirt fit against her chest. Even if she hadn't meant for her breasts to be to bluntly obvious, it was hard to hide something that huge. Grimmjow absently raised an eyebrow as this thought flitted through his mind.

And then he remembered. The girl trapped in Las Noches. The thorn in his side, the pain in the ass bitch that healed those Aizen fangirls after he had beaten them to a pulp. She had healed them, regardless of the fact that they had humiliated her, beaten her and spat on her. And she had healed Ichigo too, so that Grimmjow could finish the fight that had been interrupted so many times. And thus, he found himself here, under both of their care, helpless.

The longer he lay motionless, the more he felt his body strengthen. It was as though he was waking up after a long slumber. He began to test the limitations of his movement. He clenched his fists and then released them. He curled his toes within his boots; rolled one shoulder slightly, and then the other. There was little pain now. His muscles felt overworked, but not broken.

He felt eyes on him now. Orihime let down the barrier around him timidly, and the sudden loss of light made Ichigo stir from his nap. The room had an eery overcast of shadows dancing on the walls from the one lit lamp sitting on the desk. As Grimmjow sat up, Orihime quickly moved away from the foot of the bed and beside Ichigo. Ichigo stood up from the chair, stepping slightly ahead as though to shield Orihime in the case the Grimmjow would strike.

Azure eyes stared amusingly back at them. _They fear me so_, Grimmjow thought with a smirk. _As they should. _His hand reached for Pantera, but she wasn't by his side. He glared over at Ichigo, who smirked in response. "Honestly. Like you think I'd be stupid enough to leave it within your reach."

"I don't need it to crush you anyways." Grimmjow growled, rising off the bed and onto his feet. He was so tall, Orihime noticed. His spiritual energy surged through the room and rose and fell with his angered breaths. A split second and he disappeared, reappearing instantly with his grip around Ichigo's throat. Orihime cried out Ichigo's name in fear, but Ichigo made a gesture for her to stop. The grip of Grimmjow's hand hurt. His fingernails were digging into his skin and he could feel himself bruising. But he only stared up at Grimmjow, his face emotionless.

"Pantera-" Grimmjow snarled, "Give her to me."

Ichigo continued to stare into his eyes, obviously not submitting the information that Grimmjow was seeking without making it difficult. Ichigo's face became sullen. A shadow cast over his eyes as he looked away, oblivious to the feeling of Grimmjow's hand tightening all the more on his neck.

"You have come to the wrong place, if you are looking for a fight." Ichigo said through a hoarse whisper. He let a barrier down around his aura of reiatsu. It was a barrier that Urahara had taught him to conceal that he had lost his powers so that he wouldn't become an easier target for the hollows who still hunted his overabundance of spiritual energy.

Grimmjow's expression dropped. He loosened the grip around Ichigo's neck until he was only lightly gripping him. He had lost his powers? His spiritual energy, no stronger than an average human with only the abilities to see and sense spirits? He didn't know what to say. He couldn't imagine what had happened, and he never could have guessed that it was possible. At that moment he realized that his revenge on Ichigo could never be. There would be no sport, no fun in killing an ordinary human. He let go of Ichigo, stepped back a few steps, and crossed his arms over his bare chest. His eyes glared down at the boy, head cocked slightly to the side. His bone jaw seemed to sneer more than usual.

"A weak, defenseless human? You, the great Shinigami that was hell bent on rescuing his princess, has been reduced to nothing more than scum on the bottom of my shoe?" He spat the words out, hoping that they would mentally wound his rival, as using physical weaponry seemed out of his reach.

"That's right. You are absolutely right, Espada." Ichigo muttered, eyes hidden by the shadow of his hair. Grimmjow noticed that the short, orange hair had grown out a bit since their first meeting and seemed even more unkempt then usual. _Why the fuck am I noticing the bastard's hair?_ He cursed at himself inwardly and continued to glare down at the pathetic shell of what once was a great warrior. He seemed taken aback at how quickly Ichigo accepted his insult as truth. The level of spiritual pressure seeping from Grimmjow lowered. He had become a bit lightheaded anyways within all the excitement of the last few minutes. It was obvious that his body hadn't fully healed yet. He sat himself on the edge of the bed, rubbing his temple with his thumb.

"You need to lie down, Grimmjow-san. You have been badly hurt-" Orihime's voice was small, but firm. She would see to it that her hour of concentrated healing would not go to waste simply because Grimmjow was too impatient to stay still. Grimmjow shot her a glare of blue fire. "I know what's best for me, woman." He swung his legs up onto the bed and eased down onto the mattress, staring angrily at the ceiling. It would've been easier if he had just died. His body was far from being well enough to even stand for more than a couple of minutes and now his enemy, the one he wanted to kill the most, wasn't even worth killing anymore.

_Way to take all the fun from me, Kurosaki_, he thought.

He felt more than useless. He was made to be the strongest, made to conquer all. Regardless of what Aizen's standing was, in his mind he had been King. It should have been him, the soon to be Vasto Lorde, that ruled over the Arrancar army. But he wasn't. And to add insult to injury, he had been branded Number 6. The Sexta Espada. Five useless, talentless lowlife Espada topped _him. _Had Aizen not constantly stuck his nose into the business of the Espada's behind closed door lives, Grimmjow was certain he would've easily murdered them all without ever releasing Pantera.

He could have killed Aizen several times with as many one on one talks he had had with their so called "Lord". Aizen may have been a thinker, but his one flaw was his superiority complex. He was convinced that nobody would dare defy him, and that he was the most powerful being in all of the Three Worlds. If Grimmjow had transcended to Vasto Lorde, he was certain that he would've easily erased Aizen from existence. But he was recruited just a mere year short of eating other hollows that would have caused him to evolve. In that respect he hated Aizen all the more. The other Adjuchas that had been his companions for a time had offered their bodies for consumption. And yet, they too were turned into Arrancar. To be put in the ranks of such lowly and disgraceful beings was a blow to Grimmjow's pride. A blow that would only be satisfied by killing Aizen with his own blade.

His inward musing was interrupted by light footsteps. Ichigo crossed the expanse of the room and stood near the side of the bed. His eyes looked down upon the Espada, one hand loosely tucked in his jeans pocket.

"You're free to use this room until you recover. My father never comes in here anymore..." Ichigo looked away, glancing out the window. The sky was a pale blue on the horizon, signaling the rise of the sun. He glanced behind him at Orihime, whose hands were clasped worriedly together at her bosom. He walked towards her, glancing behind at the bewildered face of Grimmjow.

"After that, it would be wise if I never saw you again."


	4. Contemplation

**This chapter is a little longer! It's hard to believe, but it's five pages in my document writer that I use. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I certainly do :)**

The sound of the door resolutely shutting left the room feeling quieter than it probably was. Grimmjow blinked once at the doorknob, almost expecting the two to walk back in. They had left in such a rush. He blinked again and folded his arms behind his head with a slight groan, the muscles in his biceps still protesting the movement. Blue eyes focused on the ceiling, we wondered what would happen next. Not that he cared about the stupid, useless humans who left him alone in a world he knew nothing about. No...he cared more about the fact that his body, although whole (except for this giant ass hole in my stomach, he chuckled to himself), seemed broken inside. His reiatsu, although still strong, came in waves. He could no longer steady it or control it on a whim.

Sighing deeply at his shitty situation, he sat up briefly to take off his boots and make use of the comfortable bed. He may as well enjoy the luxury while it was his to enjoy. He glanced around the clinical room. The walls were made out of long panels of polished wood, the color of honey. The wall opposite of him was almost entirely made into a recessed bookshelf. It held medical encyclopedias, dried flowers in vases, statuettes and many three dimensional diagrams. On the middle of the shelf though sat a medium sized picture frame. Its border was made out of a carved wood and he couldn't see the picture from so far away. Gingerly standing, he padded across the wooden floor in his bare feet, as silent as a cat.

He picked up the frame and looked at it with questioning eyes. There was a beautiful young woman with long, flowing blonde hair. She was wearing a huge smile, her arms wrapped around a small boy, possibly seven or eight years of age. His hair was like fire. Blinking, Grimmjow set the picture down. He knew little of the Real World and even less about human relationships. But as he had been trained once he had turned into an Arrancar, Aizen had told him many things about the world of the living. Grimmjow was sure that Aizen only told him about things called "families" and "relatives" and "parents", to show him the many weaknesses humans possessed. In a roundabout way he was also sure that Aizen had told him these things because of Ichigo.

_That woman must be his mother_, he thought, crossing his arms as he looked into the delighted and happy eyes of Ichigo's past self. There was a different look in the child's eyes, with the many confrontations he had had with Ichigo, he was sure he had never seen. Possibly it was innocence, or a weakness that Ichigo had locked inside him while he fought. Or possibly it was just the look in a child's eyes. Grimmjow wasn't all that sure about children. The only child he had ever seen was Nel, after she had been stripped of her Espada powers and regressed. There were obviously no children in Hueco Mundo. If there were, they had been eaten as soon as they had arrived there, or turned into small, weak Hollows. Grimmjow wouldn't have been surprised if he had eaten a few in his own Adjuchas days. Smirking slightly at that thought, he placed the picture back on the shelf and sat again on the edge of the bed.

Hollows, in any form, only slept when their reiatsu had reached their lowest possible levels. But Grimmjow had recovered a lot even within the past hour, and his reiatsu levels at this point would never allow him to sleep. He glanced his eyes over to the window, where he could see the sun slowly creeping up the horizon. Grimmjow preferred the moon. The sun was obnoxiously bright and warm, while he preferred cold and darkness. Sighing, he headed towards the door. He wasn't going to spend his time being bored inside. Besides, he still needed to get Pantera back, and that meant having a talk with that bastard Kurosaki. _I'll make him pay somehow for touching my things,_ he growled to himself. _Even if I can't kill him. _

After saying briefly goodbye to Orihime, Ichigo had climbed the stairs to his bedroom, shut and locked the door, and peeled off his shirt and pants. He walked to his window and cracked it open slightly, to let in the early morning air, and then closed the curtain over it to prevent the sunlight from shining in. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally. Most of this involved a certain blue-haired Espada. Why had he come here? Why hadn't he killed him on the spot? Regardless if he had Pantera or not, Ichigo was well aware that Grimmjow's powers didn't not just lie in the blade. That hand that had clenched his neck could've easily broken him in two. And yet, when Grimmjow felt the difference in his Spiritual Pressure, he had acted as though he was sympathetic.

As Ichigo climbed into his bed, appreciating his soft pillow and warm blankets more than ever as a wave of exhaustion hit him, he smiled to himself for thinking that it could even be possible that the Espada could show sympathy. _They are nothing but killing machines,_ he thought, _I'm sure Grimmjow would agree. _His body relaxed and he felt the wonderful floating sensation as sleep began to take him. He was almost certain he had heard a small noise as he drifted asleep, but he was too exhausted to care.

Grimmjow's bare feet steadied him on the shingles of the Kurosaki household's roof. He had found Ichigo's reiatsu, as little and weak as it was now. He realized that Ichigo had failed to put the barrier back up around him to conceal his weakness. His eyes glared at the window, seeing his scowl reflected back to him in the mirrored surface. He looked like shit, he decided. His hair was a mess, there were still traces of a bruise here and there on his face, and he was paler than ever. Rolling his eyes at himself for being vain at this point in time, he quietly swung the hinged window out a little bit more so that he could slip into the room. The curtain posed a brief problem as it smacked him in the face and he stifled a growl of protest, but he threw it past him and lightly let his feet touch the cool wood floor.

He studied the room carefully as he entered. Was this really his former rival's room? He smirked mockingly at it. It was so typical looking. He had half expected a human who had once been a Shinigami to have a bit more taste. The room was plain with white, bare walls. In the left hand corner a desk had been pushed up to the wall. Set on it was a closed laptop, a few pens and pencils, a box of tissues (this made Grimmjow almost laugh aloud), and another framed picture of the same one he had seen downstairs in the clinic. To the opposite wall stood a bureau and a closet door that slid open one way and closed the other. The curtains behind him that had threatened to entangle him were a teal green.

And then, a foot or so away from where he stood, was a twin size bed. The comforter was a light blue with a white cross pattern and he noticed that it was concealing a lump that every so often rose and fell in a steady rhythm. He cocked his head to the side and studied it closer, eyes wandering to the head of the bed. The lump moved and revealed a head of orange hair. Grimmjow frowned. He supposed he had found Ichigo, but now that he was here he found himself wanting to back up and out through the open window. Sighing, he climbed expertly onto the foot of the bed, his movements as quiet and light as a house cat. He balanced on the foot board of the bed with his bare feet, crouching down staring interestingly at the sleeping boy.

_The one who is hell bent on saving me, twice now. _ He thought smugly, rolling his eyes as a small snort vibrated from under the covers. _Nasty human. _The house was silent. It was too late to be nighttime anymore, but too early for there to be any awake humans, it seemed. Grimmjow couldn't understand why. Nighttime to him was the most active part of each day, and the most interesting. Things seemed clearer to him at night. His vision was keener, his ears sharper. He supposed it was because of his feline-like facade.

Finding the position he was in comfortable, perching like a bird on a wire, he closed his eyes and cleared his thoughts. He hadn't meditated in what seemed forever. From the day of his "birth", the arrancar were required to do so for seven hours out of the day. Aizen claimed that it sharpened the mind, and therefore made one stronger in battle. Grimmjow wasn't sure if he completely agreed, but when he found himself overwhelmed or in this case, confused, it helped to clear those useless emotions and make him focus on what was important. What was important though, seemed to have changed. He had nothing to fight for anymore. And now, nobody to fight with. Aside from Aizen, he was the last of his kind. A dead breed. Extinct, save for one.

The thought unsettled him. He had strove to be the best and the strongest for his entire existence and yet now, when it WAS true that he WAS the best of his kind and his world, he seemed empty. Looking forward to an eternity alone was not something he had thought about. He was sure that he needed nobody to fill that void. But now...

She snorted aloud, and Ichigo stirred even more under the covers. Grimmjow froze like a gargoyle at his perch as the orange-haired boy sat up in bed, blinking. Sleep was still obviously clinging to his eyes, and he was having a hard time focusing in the darkness of his room. Everything was one large monochromatic blur, and he was so exhausted that it only made it worse. A breeze played with the curtain for a split second, and light flooded into the corner of the room. He saw the light touch a bare shoulder, a shock of blue hair. Blue eyes wide with surprise stared back at him. Ichigo yelled, thrashing the covers off so hard that he rolled himself out of bed and hit the floor with a thump.

Groaning, he gingerly rubbed his sore shoulder, and looked back up to the edge of his bed. His eyes could see him now. Grimmjow sat on his perch, his teeth glistening and his mask smiling widely with him. He stared amusingly down at the boy.

"Have a nice trip, Kurosaki?"

"Shut up, you bastard. Get the fuck out of my room!"

"But things were getting so interesting..."

"I said out!"

Grimmjow's smile fell and he now scowled down at Ichigo. He hopped lightly off of the bed's frame and landed gracefully on his feet. "Fine," he hissed, "I'll get to the point, the reason why I came here. And mind you, it DEFINITELY wasn't to visit." He didn't know why he felt the need to point that out, but he did.

"I want Pantera back." He held out his hand palm facing up, expectantly.

"Why?" Ichigo asked sharply, "Why do you need your sword? There is no one to fight here. I thought I had already told you."

"Damnit, Kurosaki, why do you think the fucking world revolves around you?"

He spat out the words, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "Obviously I need Pantera to protect myself. It never occurred to you WHY I was so injured in the first place, did it?"

Ichigo blinked back at him, face falling. Grimmjow was right. He supposed he figured that it was somehow injuries left over from their final battle. But now that he thought back when he had studied the injuries and noticed how they oddly resembled bites and scratches, he knew this wasn't and couldn't be true.

Grimmjow walked towards the window, leaning his shoulder against the frame of it. "My body became a feast for Hollows. When I came to in the desert of Hueco Mundo, I was beyond weak. My reiatsu was hardly existent, but still hundreds of times stronger than anything in my World. The lesser Hollows sensed it, that I was weak and near death. But my reiatsu would feed a hollow for years and promote growth and strength. I had become a walking talking beam of light, a flame for moths if you will. And I was chased for miles by hundreds of them. I fended off what I could, but as you had seen, many had a very large piece of me to feed on." He grinned, somewhat amused by the look of horror on Ichigo's face.

"I was near close to dying when I opened a rift to anywhere but there. And I ended up falling into this World. The smaller ones made it through the rift as well, but I used the last of my energy to disintegrate them with one final Cero. I dragged myself into that alleyway and there is where you found me. So now, Kurosaki...give me Pantera." His voice had fallen so low that Ichigo had a hard time believing that it was him at all. He seemed defeated and tired.

"Alright..." Ichigo gave in. It was doubtful that Grimmjow would do any more harm than what he could already accomplish with his bare hand. And he doubted that Grimmjow would dare release Pantera when there were hollows that may still sense that he was recovering.

He walked to his closet, where he crouched down and lifted a pile of spare blankets. Underneath was tucked Pantera. He picked it up carefully, walking the length of the room and handing it out to Grimmjow. He was met with eyes full of surprise.

"That's it then? You would so easily give your enemy the tool he needs to destroy everything, destroy your World even?"

Ichigo continued to hold out Pantera to him as Grimmjow hesitated. "Tell me Grimmjow," he almost whispered. A breeze frilled the curtains, and a light fell on his sullen face.

"Aren't you and I, now fighting to destroy the same thing?"


End file.
